I love pictures. Anyone who knows me has probably had their pic snapped by me on numerous occasions. Unfortunately, like most modernists, I keep all of these shots in some digital universe, forever suspended and susceptible to loss (which has happened on numerous occasions). This year it is my goal to make actual physical copies (along with multiple backups).
The first step toward my goal was to arrange an album of Ripley's first year. I knew this would be an uphill climb. I took thousands of pictures that year. I had to pick favorites, arrange, edit, rearrange and edit some more. What didn't occur to me, was that I would be dredging up the bottom of the sadness pool. Once again revisiting pregnancy, hope, loss, pain, and the most supreme joy. What a fun rollercoaster to hop back on (all sarcasm intended).
Album decisions. Do I start with pregnancy? Birth? Do I include ultrasound pictures? How about belly pictures that say "twins". If yes, then do I add dead baby pics. A Mia page? What about excerpts from the mommy blog? A choice on whether to tell an honest account, or glaze over the reality, so whoever looks at the album doesn't have to start with the sadness. Hard decisions.
I decided to go with truth. Not simple or pleasant, but a part of us.
First page: all the internal pictures. Baby A, Baby B, growing together. Second page: preggo pictures, happiness and expectation. Third page: Mia. Full on dead baby page. And I feel like I need to add words, which I can't do yet, so I have skipped ahead for now.
Whew. After that was decided the pages filled themselves. So many cute and adorable pictures of the first months. Then smiles and milestones. Visits from family, visits to home. Somewhere in the middle I started to think of my childhood albums. One of my favorite parts of old paste albums is being able to lift up the pic and read the caption. So I went back through and started to annotate certain pics. Then I thought, maybe I should add memories from my thoughts at the time. Then I delved back into this blog and it stirred the sludge into a whirlpool of muck.
Le sigh. I am a happy mother. I am a grateful mother. I am so totally in love every day. But even with that I still get stuck. Sometimes I need to remind myself that even though sadness can weigh me down, my head is above water and I can feel the sun.
Showing posts with label mama bird. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mama bird. Show all posts
Thursday, April 7, 2016
Tuesday, January 21, 2014
Body Dismorphia
Like most women I am hard on myself. I get ready in the morning mostly avoiding the mirror or shuffling past it quickly. I read articles about self-esteem and body love. I am aware of the constant struggle we face with media and photoshopping and the unattainable perfection that surrounds us. My brain tells me it's smoke and mirrors, but I still find myself trying to reach some mysterious body goal.
I don't exercise enough, I enjoy cocktails, and although I tend to eat mostly vegetarian, burgers and fries cross these lips on occasion. My pre-pregnancy jeans fit me, but a lot tighter than I'd like. I suppose I could buy a larger pair, but I refuse. For the last year my weight has plateaued at 20 pounds above my comfort zone. I wouldn't say I'm fat, but chubby, curvy, and jiggly, all fit the bill.
Yesterday, I visited some good friends to take maternity pictures. The mama is one of my "avatar" friends, tall, german and naturally gorgeous. She has this beautiful baby tummy without any stretch marks at all. We took a bunch of shots, and in the this world of instant digital gratification, she looked at the proofs on my camera. First reaction: "look at how chunky my arms are"! See how we react? It's ridiculous.
Our bodies are amazing. We grow humans. From nothing. Bones, and nerves and blood and skin. It all comes together inside of us.
Last night I looked into the mirror intentionally. My hips are rounded. My belly is softer. Not fatter, but less elastic. When pregnant I had deep purple ravines on my belly. My poor skin was stretched so tight trying to make room. Almost magically those marks have faded, the texture is different, but they are the same color as my skin again. Just a faint memory of the babies inside. I no longer have a girl's body. I have a mama's body. And I am gonna love it.
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| Two babies or a beach ball, hard to guess. |
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| 2 years post twins. Photoshop used to fix color and crop out my bed head (after I wrote this I had a tiny window of self-assuredness that I had to seize before I chickened out). |
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
My Mia Day
I expected to be curled into a little ball today. I thought that after a year, all the magical energy that has somehow been holding me up and keeping me together may diffuse and I'd be a big pile of sad mush. Last night I shed a few tears, today I might shed more, but all and all, there isn't any mush to be seen. I am still a fully functioning person - well maybe not "fully".
It's been one whole year since my Mia's heart stopped. I think of her, I miss her, and I will always ache for her, but we did not stop with her. In that year we have grown and loved and lived.
Bittersweet is the only description I can muster. I am so thankful that Mia had my heartbeat and her sister's warmth. I don't know if I believe in heaven, but I have experienced enough magic and miracle in this world to hold the faith that our spirits will meet again.
I have rethought the whole loss thing. It's not only that we lose someone when they die, it's that we may feel lost after they are gone - frightened and directionless. Love has been my compass this year. A year ago my doctor loved me, my nurses loved me, my husband, my mother, family, friends and strangers. Maybe that's been the magic that's kept me on course. It's love that leads my way.
So, thank you family. Thank you friends. Thank you sunshine. Thank you world.
Thank you Mia.
It's been one whole year since my Mia's heart stopped. I think of her, I miss her, and I will always ache for her, but we did not stop with her. In that year we have grown and loved and lived.
Bittersweet is the only description I can muster. I am so thankful that Mia had my heartbeat and her sister's warmth. I don't know if I believe in heaven, but I have experienced enough magic and miracle in this world to hold the faith that our spirits will meet again.
I have rethought the whole loss thing. It's not only that we lose someone when they die, it's that we may feel lost after they are gone - frightened and directionless. Love has been my compass this year. A year ago my doctor loved me, my nurses loved me, my husband, my mother, family, friends and strangers. Maybe that's been the magic that's kept me on course. It's love that leads my way.
So, thank you family. Thank you friends. Thank you sunshine. Thank you world.
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Up and Away
Chiquita and I are off on our very first adventure! We flew from San Diego to Tucson all by ourselves. We are so very big and grown-up!
The flight:
I had every intention to arrive at the airport an hour and a half early, but life jumped in the way (as it does). Zach was sick so we had to make a detour to pick him up from his grandmas house (which was not very far out of the way, but add traffic and...). By the time we got to the airport we had just under an hour till our flight. D unloaded the bags and I wrapped the girlie in her sling. It was kinda tricky lugging the bags (a big orange roller and an army duffle) to the curb check, but I managed (cause I'm all strong and I've got things under control - haha).
Leeloo generally likes her sling, but sometimes it takes a little soothing to remind her. This process is usually accompanied by the use of a pacifier, which she's also not quite sold on yet. So, there I was, bags in tow, diaper bag (black Petunia Pickle bottom for visual reference) slung over shoulder and free hand ever so gently and patiently assisting with pacifier usage (i.e. me not doing a very good job and occasionally poking her in the cheeks). Luckily the Sky Cap noticed and grabbed the bags. He was not only helpful, but he patiently waited while I fished my wallet out of the diaper bag one handed (because it's so much easier to carry just the diaper bag until you realize its a bottomless pit). I got us all checked in and even managed to find the five D gave me for the tip. The Sky Cap smiled, wished us a good trip, and pointed the way towards our gate.
One of the best things about the San Diego airport is that its small and mostly hassle free. Without a baby in tow I can usually get to the airport just before my flight and catch the plane well before boarding. When I walked through the sliding doors I realized that today that would not be the case. I walked passed the security check point and followed a line of people that extended beyond a restaurant, the whole bank of luggage carousels, a bookstore, and the escalators to the parking lot. This was trouble.
D thinks I'm a pessimist. I think I generally have faith that things will work out. We got into the line and began our snails pace.
I have seen people fly with kids before. Stroller, diaper bag, bottles, stuffed toy, books, snacks - everything you could need for any situation. I went the bare bones route and only had the diaper bag with essentials (bottle, diapers, extra set of clothes - its only an hour flight after all), and I felt fairly prepared. What I wasn't prepared for were the dirty looks. You would think I had worn white after Labor Day! Sure people said "Oh, what a cute baby", but you could see the fear in their eyes and hear the inner dialogue that begged, "please please please don't be on my flight!" What made it worse was about 25 minutes into the line the little one started to get hot and bored. So like every mama I shushed and bounced and smiled assuredly at people that this was not the prequel to a total breakdown.
About forty minutes into the line we could finally see the metal detectors. Leeloo is very curious. It is a wonderful quality, but it means that she also likes to be on the move. Don't stand in one spot for too long, because she wants to see it all. Snail line wasn't the best place for her to explore. Luckily one of the security people noticed her agitation and ushered us into the much shorter business class line. Now that we were moving she calmed a bit. It was a good thing, because I needed to prepare for the security check gauntlet.
Two bins: Shoes off, jacket off, sunglasses, boarding pass and pacifier. Diaper bag down and laptop extracted to its own private bin. Then I formed the bin-bag-bin train and pushed them along onto the conveyor belt. We made it through the detector without any beeps, but got ushered aside for a hand swab anyhow. The agent grabbed the bins and cleared us of terrorist activities. Shoes on, jacket on, computer tucked away and off we went.
The reason I wanted to get to the airport early was this myth I heard called preboarding. In my head we'd mosey in, casually go through security while she flirted along the way, get to the gate and onto the plane before everyone else so we could get the first row of seats with all that leg room, then I could settle her into feeding all nicely covered up. Pipe dreams. We made it to the gate while the last handful of people were boarding. Ticket scanned we made it onto the jetway only to get stuck in a snail line again. This time with warmth and stagnant air. Bring on the super fuss.
A lady in front of me was nice enough to compliment me on keeping my cool. Was I cool? The only thing in my focus was the grumpy baby not wanting her pacifier (why do I keep thinking that one day she might like it?). Finally I thought to lift her up out of her sling. Magical. She was hot. She calmed again and we made it all the way, passed the stranger glances, to the last row of the plane. The diaper bag went up, we sat down, I managed to get my breast out with a little modesty, and she began to nurse. Accomplishment.
The flight went smoothly, chica slept for the majority of it. Despite a strange, twitchy, talkative man in our row the hour passed fairly quickly. It's still amazing to me that you can get on a plane and be in a whole different state in such a short amount of time. We landed, our first mama/baby solo trip was a success!
The flight:
I had every intention to arrive at the airport an hour and a half early, but life jumped in the way (as it does). Zach was sick so we had to make a detour to pick him up from his grandmas house (which was not very far out of the way, but add traffic and...). By the time we got to the airport we had just under an hour till our flight. D unloaded the bags and I wrapped the girlie in her sling. It was kinda tricky lugging the bags (a big orange roller and an army duffle) to the curb check, but I managed (cause I'm all strong and I've got things under control - haha).
Leeloo generally likes her sling, but sometimes it takes a little soothing to remind her. This process is usually accompanied by the use of a pacifier, which she's also not quite sold on yet. So, there I was, bags in tow, diaper bag (black Petunia Pickle bottom for visual reference) slung over shoulder and free hand ever so gently and patiently assisting with pacifier usage (i.e. me not doing a very good job and occasionally poking her in the cheeks). Luckily the Sky Cap noticed and grabbed the bags. He was not only helpful, but he patiently waited while I fished my wallet out of the diaper bag one handed (because it's so much easier to carry just the diaper bag until you realize its a bottomless pit). I got us all checked in and even managed to find the five D gave me for the tip. The Sky Cap smiled, wished us a good trip, and pointed the way towards our gate.
One of the best things about the San Diego airport is that its small and mostly hassle free. Without a baby in tow I can usually get to the airport just before my flight and catch the plane well before boarding. When I walked through the sliding doors I realized that today that would not be the case. I walked passed the security check point and followed a line of people that extended beyond a restaurant, the whole bank of luggage carousels, a bookstore, and the escalators to the parking lot. This was trouble.
D thinks I'm a pessimist. I think I generally have faith that things will work out. We got into the line and began our snails pace.
I have seen people fly with kids before. Stroller, diaper bag, bottles, stuffed toy, books, snacks - everything you could need for any situation. I went the bare bones route and only had the diaper bag with essentials (bottle, diapers, extra set of clothes - its only an hour flight after all), and I felt fairly prepared. What I wasn't prepared for were the dirty looks. You would think I had worn white after Labor Day! Sure people said "Oh, what a cute baby", but you could see the fear in their eyes and hear the inner dialogue that begged, "please please please don't be on my flight!" What made it worse was about 25 minutes into the line the little one started to get hot and bored. So like every mama I shushed and bounced and smiled assuredly at people that this was not the prequel to a total breakdown.
About forty minutes into the line we could finally see the metal detectors. Leeloo is very curious. It is a wonderful quality, but it means that she also likes to be on the move. Don't stand in one spot for too long, because she wants to see it all. Snail line wasn't the best place for her to explore. Luckily one of the security people noticed her agitation and ushered us into the much shorter business class line. Now that we were moving she calmed a bit. It was a good thing, because I needed to prepare for the security check gauntlet.
Two bins: Shoes off, jacket off, sunglasses, boarding pass and pacifier. Diaper bag down and laptop extracted to its own private bin. Then I formed the bin-bag-bin train and pushed them along onto the conveyor belt. We made it through the detector without any beeps, but got ushered aside for a hand swab anyhow. The agent grabbed the bins and cleared us of terrorist activities. Shoes on, jacket on, computer tucked away and off we went.
The reason I wanted to get to the airport early was this myth I heard called preboarding. In my head we'd mosey in, casually go through security while she flirted along the way, get to the gate and onto the plane before everyone else so we could get the first row of seats with all that leg room, then I could settle her into feeding all nicely covered up. Pipe dreams. We made it to the gate while the last handful of people were boarding. Ticket scanned we made it onto the jetway only to get stuck in a snail line again. This time with warmth and stagnant air. Bring on the super fuss.
A lady in front of me was nice enough to compliment me on keeping my cool. Was I cool? The only thing in my focus was the grumpy baby not wanting her pacifier (why do I keep thinking that one day she might like it?). Finally I thought to lift her up out of her sling. Magical. She was hot. She calmed again and we made it all the way, passed the stranger glances, to the last row of the plane. The diaper bag went up, we sat down, I managed to get my breast out with a little modesty, and she began to nurse. Accomplishment.
The flight went smoothly, chica slept for the majority of it. Despite a strange, twitchy, talkative man in our row the hour passed fairly quickly. It's still amazing to me that you can get on a plane and be in a whole different state in such a short amount of time. We landed, our first mama/baby solo trip was a success!
 |
| On our way to the airport! |
Saturday, February 4, 2012
(almost) 2 months
Big girl is two months old on Monday! Everyone tells you it goes so fast, and they are right. Just today we retired the last of her newborn onesies. She's just too long for them - maybe she'll be tall like her dad's side of the family. She also went up a diaper size. We're still using disposables, but she should fit in her cloths any day now.
Good things:
-She loves her mobile (which gives me time to shower).
-The bouncy chair also remains a good place for naps.
-Recently she's spending time on the floor, however tummy time is not a fave.
-She's starting to smile more (which I adore).
-She's starting to sleep for five hours at night, it's not consistent, but still- big huge awesomeness for me!
Obstacles:
-She still has grumpy tummy days. I have used gripe water and chamomile, but I fear the Elimination Diet is in my future. Mixed with my food allergies I think I may be restricted to rice and fish. Much more research before I hack my food back that far.
-She's becoming a mama's girl. Remember that spoiling I mentioned? It's in full effect.
-We haven't established a routine yet. So everyday has a different schedule, def keeps me on my toes.
On the mama front things are going fairly well. Two months in and I'm still mostly a hermit. We have been to the store and out to eat a couple of times. Yesterday we even went to a friends for dinner. Sunday is Superbowl and we will be out all day with the whole family. It's all about the baby steps.
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